Reading Gaol – my visit to Oscar Wilde’s cell

Reading Gaol – best known for Prisoner C3.3, or Oscar Wilde, is now a young offenders’ institute housing hundreds of criminals. 

I’ve often passed it and, having a long-standing love of all things Oscar, wondered what it was like on the other side of the wall – not only in his day, but now as well. So when I got the opportunity to visit Reading Prison, as it is now known, on an Oscar Wilde Society trip, I jumped at the chance.

While I was a reporter many of the court cases I covered at nearby Reading Crown Court involved boys who’d been imprisoned there. And they are boys, really – aged between 18 and 24. ‘Children’ was how the principal officer, Tony Stokes, referred to them once during our visit, though he reiterated some have committed evil crimes.

When Wilde was serving his two year sentence for gross indecency in 1895, he was shocked by the amount of children serving sentences at Reading Prison. One 11-year-old just three years earlier had been sentenced to imprisonment with hard labour and 12 strokes of the birch for stealing a rabbit, to use just one example.

Wilde was so sickened by watching the preparations for the execution of Charles Thomas Wooldridge from his window that he began to form the ideas for what would become The Ballad of Reading Gaol. 

When we actually got inside and the iron gates swung shut behind us, my chest suddenly tightened. The sense of rising panic lasted for about the first half-hour of the trip, as door after door was firmly locked. The sense of claustrophobia to know you cannot escape was hard to overcome.

We visited the chapel, which is now a recreation room, and one member of the group asked and was allowed to read out the ballad.  

The imagery of hanging: ‘It is not sweet with nimble feet to dance upon the air’ in the poem chillingly resonated around the room. Tony Stokes confirmed although scholars have disputed Wilde’s claims he could see from his cell the unconsecrated ground where bodies were thrown, he knew Wilde was right because the outhouse now blocking the view was more recent than the rest of the prison.

Inside, the cell blocks were exactly like every in film and prison TV show – noisy, dark, metallic stairs, nets everywhere. Cell 3.3. was being used so we could not go in, but there was a plaque outside in memory of its most famous resident. We went into one empty cell and it was tiny, particularly given prisoners are located two to a cell to reduce the suicide risk.

One of my favourite stories as a reporter involved this rescue of a parrot by a 21-year-old on day release. It shows how if young people are given another chance once inside they can turn their lives around and gain new opportunities. The prison’s Kennet Unit does fantastic work getting the inmates trained, with a focus on how their life will be when they are released.

Looking out of the window in the new chapel, it was strange to see The Blade and Reading’s other landmarks from such a different angle. Outside, alongside the wall housing a 5-a-side pitch and exercise area is a plaque to each of the people executed in Reading Gaol. The razorwire above the thick walls is truly imposing and although the staff and activities deserve praise, it is a million miles away from the type of luxury living the tabloids would encourage belief in.

I think, in some ways, the improvements from Wilde’s day to the present only emphasise what a terrible time he truly had while inside.     

Death Knocks - A Reporter's Loneliest Hour

8.30am arrive at work chirpy, enjoying sunshine, full of story ideas for the week.
8.31am find out someone died overnight and a death knock is in the offing. Mellow well and truly harshed.

Doing a deathknock is one of the most difficult parts of the job. For the uninitiated, it’s where you have to approach the family of someone who has died and find out what happened and get them to agree to a tribute. 

It’s tough because the responses range from tears, to hostility, to being escorted off the premises with an earful. Death knocks for children or people who have died unexpectedly are always extremely hard because the family is always in shock. As always, the balance between what is expected of you to get the story and how mindful to be of a grieving family is tricky. 

Sitting outside someone’s home in your car trying to muster the confidence to knock on their front door can be really lonely so if you prepare yourself, you’ll make it easier.

For all new journalists, I would give the following tips:

1) Leave your car unlocked. Just in case you have to leg it back in a hurry.

2) Write out a little script if you need to be clear about exactly what to say.

3) If you’re unsure whether or not you are knocking on the door of the right family, glance in the window – are there bereavement cards? Otherwise, you’ll probably have a pretty good idea from their face as soon as they open the door.

4) Don’t forget to ask for a photo – take a picture of an existing photo if you can, or take a picture away to scan and return.

5) Dress smartly – it really will get you through the door if you can be sympathetic and polite.

6) Saying something positive like ‘We’re looking to put together a tribute’ is best as it puts the ball back in the family’s court.

7) If you have to ask to go to the funeral, you can say it’s so people who can’t go can get an account and you’ll stay away from talking to anyone.  If the family says they’re not interested, ask if you can call back again – sometimes they change their mind once they’ve thought about it. Be mindful, however, of the PCC's Code of Conduct - don't harrass.

 8) If you’re stuck trying to find the right person’s house but have a name, go through the residential addresses on BT and just call each one saying, ‘I’m looking for the family of ………’ – you don’t have to go into details because they’ll know why you’re ringing if they’re the right family.

9) Try to put yourself in their position – is it a posh house? Are they old? If someone you loved had just died, what kind of approach would you like?

Sometimes people seem to find it therapeutic to put together a tribute and you'll sit having tea with the family, so try not to have a sense of dread about it.